


maybe i'll see you in another life if this one wasn't enough.

by redahlia



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Returns (2001), The Mummy Series
Genre: F/M, High Priestess - Freeform, Isis Priestess, Magic, Pagan Gods, Paganism, Past Lives, Soulmates, Witch - Freeform, can you tell physical touch is my love language yet, goddess isis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-28 13:28:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redahlia/pseuds/redahlia
Summary: “What path was he talking about?” O’Connell’s voice was harsher than he intended, and he tried to hide it behind a flinch. Ardeth ignored it, focusing on the question instead.“Fate, I suppose,” the other man rolled his eyes, making Ardeth snort despite the situation. “You Americans should learn to believe more.”“Why, you believe that just because someone said it, then this woman is your destiny?” O’Connell scoffed, glancing at him. The conversation seemed to be a good distraction for all of them. Yes, a voice in Ardeth said softly, a gentle, feminine voice that rang like bells in his mind. You know she is.“I believe she might be part of it, it’s - I don’t know how to explain the sensation, like being pulled by a rope wrapped around my ribs, and the familiarity of being near.”
Relationships: Ardeth Bay/Original Character(s), Ardeth Bay/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 9





	1. in the beginning there was an ending.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own the characters of this story besides Nedjem/Lennan.  
> The dialogues in cursive are to indicate that the language is not English.  
> English is not my first language, if there is a mistake and you want to let me know, please do it respectfully.  
> Enjoy!

_ 1290 B.C - Thebes _

“ _ Nedjem _ ,” his voice echoed softly in the room, making her heart leap in her chest. She rose to her feet and turned towards the door where he stood, waiting for her to invite him in.   
“ _ Mrwty _ ,” she called back, and he closed the door before reaching for her. His arms were strong and steady around her, lifting her slightly off the ground as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in her sweet scent - she always smelled of fresh flowers and honey. She allowed her hands to run over his shoulders and his back, studying the shape of his body as if it were the first time all over again. Since he’d come in her life, he’d been this grounding, centering force that she’d started to need more and more.  _ My love, my force, _ she called him, when he used her name. Just her name - no titles, no oneries: when they were together, she was just herself, and she was his like he was hers.   
When she kissed him, her mouth tasted sweet as well, and before she could untie his robe he stopped her with a frown, pushing her back.   
“ _ Nedjem _ ,” he said again, with worry this time, and she lowered her gaze - something she’d never done. “ _ What’s wrong, my love? _ ” he wondered, holding her hands. Her fingers were cold against his palms, but her skin gleamed in the moonlight. The light coming from the fire behind her surrounded like a halo, making her dark red hair shine as if she herself was a flame. Her eyes were dark - darker than usual, the irises almost vanished around her pupils. He felt his heart stop as a bittersweet smile formed on her lips.   
“ _ He’s planning something, _ ” she didn’t have to say who she’s talking about. They’ve mentioned him before. They knew it was a risk. “ _ I couldn’t see it in time. You have to be careful, _ ” at her words his mind stopped working.  _ You _ have to be careful. It had been  _ we _ for so long hearing those words was like a knife twisted in between his ribs. He touched her face then, fear settling in. Fear of losing her, of losing them, of not being able to do enough.   
“ _ I should be doing something _ ,” he murmured as her eyelids started to look heavier. He kissed her again, and the sweet taste on her lips felt acrid then.  _ Perhaps _ , he thought,  _ I could die like this too. Take the poison from her lips, and go with her _ . So he kissed again, angry, sad.   
“ _ No, _ ” her voice was still strong as she took his face in her hands, keeping him away, no matter how much it pained her. When she’d realised the poison was in her system, the thought of dying before seeing him again had made her feel sick. She’d waited, and his voice had allowed her to succumb to the feeling of gold melting in her veins. Slowly, she traced the shape of his lips with her thumb. The arch of his nose and of his brow, the line of his jaw and the curve of his neck. She wanted to remember it all. “ _ Live, Ardeth. _ ” Her last words, her last breath, her last heartbeat - they were all for him. Then the light came for her, and she felt the warm embrace of her Goddess, soothing her to sleep while crystalline words echoed around her.   
“You’re not done yet. You two shall live together. Now rest.”


	2. by the pricking of my thumbs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the characters of this story besides Nedjem/Lennan.  
> The dialogues in cursive are to indicate that the language is not English.  
> English is not my first language, if there is a mistake and you want to let me know, please do it respectfully.  
> Enjoy!

_1926 A.D - Cairo._

When Lennan had gone to Egypt following the advice of her Elder, she was not expecting to spend so much time at the Museum of Antiquities. Lady Nora had told her to follow her instincts and what the Goddess told her, which meant most days she walked the market for a while before heading to the Museum; every now and then she would request access to the archives, to which she was mostly frowned at - not because they could not be consulted by a scholar such as she was, but because she was constantly unaccompanied. She’d gone to Egypt on her own, broke her engagement she hadn’t wanted in the first place and followed the advice of the witches around her. She knew she was lucky: another family might’ve disowned her rather than happily send her to another country, but her parents had been comprehensive and helpful.  
The only person who never scoffed when she walked by was the woman working at the Museum - she’d never learned her name, but the curator had called her miss Carnahan once. She kept her hair in a bun at the nape of her neck and dressed in soft colours and gentle shapes. She smiled at Lennan and helped her find her way through the library, then left her on her own to read. By the time Lennan was done, she wasn’t around anymore.   
That day she went with the feeling of the tip of her fingers pricking. She chanted as she walked, _by the pricking of my thumbs / something wicked this way comes_ , and as she reached the entrance she stopped, observing the curator march in front of her, muttering beneath his breath. When he noticed he was watched, he tried to remove the frown from his expression unsuccessfully, but his voice, while strained, was polite and perfectly civil - whatever the source of his annoyance was, he was willing to push it aside.   
“Can I help you?” he asked, and she slowly pulled the scarf down from her hair and removed her sunglasses, thinking it would be best to meet his gaze to speak. “Oh, it is you ma’am! My apologies, the library is not, uh -” he tripped over his own words, then cleared his throat and clasped his hands. “I’m afraid you cannot go in there today, there is quite the mess.”   
“That’s alright,” she said gently, a smile on her lips. By the look on his face, she expected a fire to have started in the middle of the room, but she did not say. “You’ve been way too kind to let me go in the first place, thank you.”   
“Would you walk with me for a while?” he asked, and seemed taken aback by his own words. She nodded right away and, as he relaxed a little, they started to cross the corridors with measured steps. “May I ask what the subject of your research is?” she could feel the tension in his voice and see it in his posture, and wondered whether it was because of what had happened or something that still had to happen. She bit her lip, playing with the ring on index finger. She’d always had to be careful who she confided in - not everyone thought the best of you when you called yourself a pagan, following the Goddess Isis’ path. But a part of her felt like she could trust the curator, and so she cleared her throat.   
“Isis and her cult,” she moved the ring from one finger to the other, and they crossed an empty room, steps echoing. “I’m studying to become her priestess,” she said at last. The curator stopped abruptly and looked towards her as she took a couple steps more, then turned. He wasn’t looking at her like they usually did (like she should be locked away), but rather with renowned curiosity. Before he could say anything though, she felt her breath itch in her throat, and turned around to look at the other side of the room. They were not in the main area of the Museum, keeping away from the tourists, so there was no mistaking the person on the doorframe was looking in their direction. Lennan felt her heart rush, and even before seeing his face she felt like she was experiencing a déjà vu.   
“I have to go, I apologise,” the curator said, looking at the figure, then back at her. “Are you feeling alright?” he asked carefully, and Lennan had to clear her throat and take a deep breath in. She still couldn’t look away from the man at the door, and he seemed to be as paralysed as she was. Could he feel it too? The burning smell, and warmth luring him towards her?   
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” she managed to breath out, forcing a smile on her lips. “I just need some air. Hopefully we’ll have the chance to speak again,” she half waved, half bowed, and forced herself to retrace her steps, away from that room and the other end of her magnet.   
  
He’d felt her scent before he could see her. He was going to meet the curator when a distinct smell of flowers and something else sweet had caught his attention, and he hadn’t been able to do anything but follow it. It had led him to a room where the curator was with a girl. A woman. When she’d noticed him she’d froze, and Ardeth could’ve sworn her breath had caught in her throat. They’d looked at each other, and everything else had melted around - time, place, weather, other people, nothing and no one else was there but them. The light coming from the door behind her surrounded her, and her unbound red hair seemed to be made of fire itself. _Should he go?_ , he kept wondering. _Should he approach her? What for?_ _  
Who was she? _   
“Lennan Byrne,” Dr. Bey replied at his silent question. “She’s been here for a few months now, and she’s done quite a bit of research. I made sure in case she was going to be a problem or not,” he cleared his throat, as if something he’d said felt sour on his tongue - a half-lie. “She’s a follower of Isis,” he added in a low voice, and Ardeth felt his whole body tense up. Unconsciously, he reached for the tattoo on his forearm, the one he could not remember getting but that had been with him for incredibly long.   
“We should focus on Hamunaptra,” he retorted, and yet his mind struggled to leave behind the image of the woman that had called to him without her voice.


	3. dead gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the characters of this story besides Nedjem/Lennan.  
> The dialogues in cursive are to indicate that the language is not English.  
> English is not my first language, if there is a mistake and you want to let me know, please do it respectfully.  
> Enjoy!

_1926 A.D - Cairo._

She stared at the red liquid in her tub with dread on her face. Odd and scary things had been happening recently, a dark energy building up all around the place that she couldn’t quite put her finger on and costed her several hours of headaches and little to no sleep. The room quickly started to smell metallic, and she felt dizzy as she stumbled towards the window - something was wrong, she could feel it deep in her bones. Someone screamed in the room next to hers, and she clung to her amulet before running outside, forgetting for a moment she was wearing just her nightgown. A woman was backing away from the room, mumbling incoherently in Arabic as the colour drained from her face.  
“ _What is happening?_ ” Lennan asked, and the woman turned around with terror on her face. She grabbed her hand, and squeezed her fingers so hard it hurt.   
“ _Run, child,_ ” she urged, and turned back to look at her room. A man stood there, incredibly still, but when Lennan squeezed her eyes in his direction, his head jerked to the side. The woman shrieked, and pushed her aside to sprint down the corridor, telling her to _run_ again, _run, just run_ . The man walked towards her, limbs stiff and mouth open in a silent scream, and the moment he walked into the light she saw the sores and blisters on his cracked skin. She held her amulet in her hands, backing away slowly - if she entered her room and closed the door, would she be safe? The arms of the ankh pierced her palm as she reached for the handle of the door blindly. She felt him before she could see him, and instinctively ducked as a sword flew next to her head. She watched as a lock of her hair fell to the ground, a curl of red blood against the white marble, and the blade pierced the arm of the man with a wet sound that made her skin crawl. Strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and brought her up to his chest, holding her close as he yanked the sword back from the body.   
“Are you alright?” his voice was low and soft, in contrast with the tension of his muscles and the harshness of his attacks against the man in front of them. The creature kept on advancing as she was dragged back, her feet barely touching the ground, and his mouth opened wider, flies swarming around his head. Lennan averted her eyes, her stomach flipping at the sight, and reached with both her hands to hold onto the man behind her. The ankh fell on her chest, and a high screech came from the mouth of the wounded man.   
“ _Nedjem_ ,” he screamed then, and Lennan’s whole body locked with a shiver. “ _Nedjem!_ ” he called again, and suddenly he had his hands out reaching for her. The other man pushed her back, her shoulder hitting the wall as she hid behind him and covered her ears, tears forming in her eyes as she closed them. Suddenly she was not in the corridor of her housing anymore, but in a large room with high walls and ceilings, statues of Gods and Goddesses staring down at her, and a man grinning as she drank from a cup.   
  
_“Nedjem,” he laughed. “Poor, sweet Nedjem who thought she could hold anything against me. Where’s your Goddess now, Priestess?” he laughed again, and before he could make a move she threw the empty cup at his face. It hit him on the cheek, a small cut forming right away, and when he looked back at her with fury in his eyes, she smiled._ _  
_ _“Why don’t you ask her yourself, Imhotep?” she spat his name angrily_ .   
  
She felt herself getting shaken gently, and opened her eyes with fear.   
“It’s just me,” the man had discarded his sword to the side, and was bent over towards her, a hand on her shoulder and one with his palm up in offering. She took it slowly, and he pulled her to her feet with ease. “Are you alright?” he asked, and reached for her face. His touch was tender, and she leaned into it without thinking about it.   
“I’m fine,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “Thank you, Ardeth,” the name left her lips before she realised, and when she opened her eyes he was frowning at her.   
“How -” his voice failed him, and Lennan shook her head slowly, confusion in her gaze. She didn’t know how she knew his name - nor why she was so sure it was truly his. It had slipped from her mind into her mouth like a word in a language she did not remember knowing, and yet it felt familiar in sound and shape. His eyes struggled to leave her, focusing on the window behind her on the other side of the room, and his hands fell. She was still holding onto his dark robes when he reached for his chest, pulling a short dagger out of a hidden holster. “Keep this,” his voice was more urgent now, and he pressed the weapon into her palm, wrapping his hand around hers so that their fingers held it firmly.   
She wanted to tell him so many things, question over question running through her head, but the words would not come. She looked at him, his name like a chant in her head, _Ardeth Ardeth Ardeth_ , and she saw white robes over black ones, the same words said in another language, in another time.   
“Chief Bay!” a scream coming from the road, a male English voice urging him with a terrified squeal. “We have to go! He’s coming!” Ardeth’s fingers remained around hers as he looked over her shoulder, his jaw set firmly. She could feel the conflict in him, and how much it bothered him. Her free hand reached for his face, and when she brushed his cheek his expression relaxed for a moment.   
“You have to go,” her voice was firm, but calming. She took a step back, her shoulder hitting the wall again, and she freed her armed hand while tracing the line of his jaw swiftly, gently. Their eyes met again, and he nodded stiffly. “Be careful,” she whispered as he recovered his sword, and before the Englishman could call him again, he’d vanished from the corridor, the smell of burnt wood lingering behind him and all over her, a memento of the moment passed.

“Look for the Goddess and her messenger,” Terrence’s last words ran in his head with the memory of Lennan’s touch, haunting him with visions he recognised but couldn’t remember. “Fulfil your path, Chief Bay. Look for her.”  
“Who was he talking about?” the Englishman asked him. Ardeth knew he needed to keep his mind occupied - his sister had sacrificed herself for them all, and the anxiety was consuming him from inside. O’Connell, on the other hand, looked livid, and ready to shoot at everything that came in their path. Between the girl being taken away and the curator dying, his guilt had grown at every step, putting him on edge. Ardeth wondered what he looked like from outside - could they see his nervousness, his fear, his guilt, like he saw theirs?   
“I don’t know,” he said, words echoing beneath the ground. “I’m not sure. A woman.”   
“What path was he talking about?” O’Connell’s voice was harsher than he intended, and he tried to hide it behind a flinch. Ardeth ignored it, focusing on the question instead.   
“Fate, I suppose,” the other man rolled his eyes, making Ardeth snort despite the situation. “You Americans should learn to believe more.”   
“Why, you believe that just because someone said it, then this woman is your destiny?” O’Connell scoffed, glancing at him. The conversation seemed to be a good distraction for all of them. _Yes_ , a voice in Ardeth's mind said softly, a gentle, feminine voice that rang like bells. _You know she is_ .   
“I believe she might be part of it, it’s - I don’t know how to explain the sensation, like being pulled by a rope wrapped around my ribs, and the familiarity of being near,” the feminine voice chuckled softly, and Ardeth sealed his lips. He looked at the other two, and was met by Jonathan’s frown - O’Connell, on the other hand, seemed surprised, as if he’d explained a concept he’d tried to put into words for long.   
“Then what about the Goddess?” Jonathan wondered after the silence felt unbearable. “Is there another part of the prophecy we don’t know about?”   
“Isis, wife of Osiris,” he shook his head then. “She has nothing to do with Imhotep.”   
“Isn’t he the High Priest of Osiris?” the Englishman asked, and O’Connell slowed down a little, a frown forming on his face.   
“He was, but the Gods have forsaken him. Osiris is the God of life and death, and he would not allow him to mess with his realms,” he said, and O’Connell scoffed.   
“Doesn’t seem he’s doing a good job as for now,” he said, and in the distance a falcon screamed, making him whip his gun out and turn. Ardeth pushed the weapon towards the ground, reprimanding him with his gaze.   
“Do you know the story of the God Pan?” he asked, as O’Connell put the weapon away.   
“The one who died?” Jonathan suggested, and Ardeth nodded in his direction.   
“Gods need people to keep them alive. Pan vanished from the world because people stopped believing in him. The Ancient Gods aren’t as strong as they used to be, because people who worship them nowadays are few,” he stopped for a moment, brushing the tattoo on his forearm with the tip of his fingers. “Imhotep is our responsibility, not theirs. Not anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates on tuesday and friday


	4. i thought i was going back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the characters of this story besides Nedjem/Lennan.  
> The dialogues in cursive are to indicate that the language is not English.  
> English is not my first language, if there is a mistake and you want to let me know, please do it respectfully.  
> Enjoy!

_ 1926 A.D - Cairo. _

Ardeth did not remember leaving Hamunaptra. After seeing the others out, he’d fallen asleep on the back of the dromedary, dreams of golden halls and fiery hair, of soft hands and warm rooms, keeping him sedated as the pain in his body increased with every step of the animal.   
  
_ “Mrwty,” a sweet voice called him, tinted with laughter. “I have to go, and you do too,” she said gently, and her hands ran through his hair, brushing it back. He was laying at her side with his head on his chest, but at her words he moved beneath the covers, sliding completely on top of her and making her laugh again. _ _  
_ _ “Just a little longer,” he murmured, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her hair tingled the tip of his nose, and he inhaled deeply while wrapping his arms around her middle. She arched her back, and reached up to trace the line of his shoulders. “You’re always so warm,” he kissed her collarbone, and she sighed softly. _ _  
_ _ “We still have to go,” she placed two fingers beneath his chin, forcing him gently to make him look up. He blinked against the light, and she left a kiss against his forehead. “Get up, Ardeth.” _   
  
“Ardeth,” her voice was urgent, arms wrapped around his chest as she held him up. “Get up, Ardeth,” she called, holding with one hand his head as it fell over his shoulder. He blinked, reaching blindly for something to hold on to.   
“ _ Mrwty _ ?” he mumbled, and felt her exhale in relief. His hands were on her waists, and she gently pushed him back until he could feel a wall behind him.   
“Can you stand?” she asked softly, pushing his head back with gentleness. She looked at both sides of his face, eyes wide open to look for any type of wound. There were a few scratches on one side, but nothing too deep. She scanned quickly the parts of his body she could see as he blinked against the sunset sky.   
“I don’t know,” he took a deep breath in, and moaned at the pain in his ribs. “Ruins fell on me,” he explained, almost choking on his words. Lennan’s eyes widened, but she held her breath and her tongue.   
“Okay,” she exhaled, taking one of his hands in hers as she tried to hold him up with her body against his. “Okay,” she repeated, fixing what remained of the bandages around his fingers.   
“Are we in Cairo?” he asked, trying to look around. They were on a large road, but he could not see anybody else. Lennan nodded, fixing the robe against his chest before moving at his side. “What are you doing?”   
“Lean on me,” despite her voice being gentle, the order in her words was undeniable. “We’re just behind my place, but I need you to try and walk a bit, because I can’t carry you.”   
“I have to go,” he protested, and she wrapped her arm behind her back, one hand resting on his ribs. He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut and shifting his weight against her. It took them a couple of wobbling steps before finding a balance. His whole left side hurt terribly, and still he tried not to put too much weight on her small frame.   
“You have at least one broken rib, and you’re developing a fever,” she took his hand on the side where she was and guided him to put his arm around her shoulders. “You’re not going anywhere,” he wanted to protest again, but the effort put into walking was more than he’d imagined, and he couldn’t find the strength to open his mouth.   
Slowly, they made their way around the building and at the entrance. He vaguely remembered passing there not that many days ago - _ how long had it been?  _ \- unsure on where he was going, and why he felt the need to run up there. When he’d seen her in the corridor, the creature walking up to her, he had stopped thinking too much about it. The feeling of her body against hers, and the way she’d clung onto him as the creature shouted and called her  _ Nedjem _ , a name unknown to him and yet so familiar. She’d had her eyes closed, mumbling Imhotep’s name with both anger and fear.   
“ _ Byrne! What are you doing? _ ” a woman’s voice shouted in Arabic, and Ardeth - that didn’t know when he’d lowered his head - tried to look up through glassy eyes.   
“Shit,” Lennan said beneath her breath, then turned her head towards Ardeth. “Don’t say a word.  _ Good evening, ma’am. _ ”   
“ _ You know the rules, Byrne. Is he drunk? _ ” the woman had walked up to them, hands on her hips, and Ardeth felt Lennan shake her head.   
“ _ No, ma’am, my husband fell at work because he’s got a fever, _ ” the words fell swiftly from her tongue, and Ardeth tried to look up again. The woman’s eyebrows were arched up with curiosity, eyes scanning the pair. He felt Lennan shift the weight of both their bodies from one leg to the other, holding her breath.   
“ _ Didn’t know you were married _ ,” she scoffed, and the girl laughed softly. Ardeth groaned for the movement, the pain in his ribs now like a fire. “ _ Well go on then, and let me know if you need something. I don’t want anybody else dying in here _ .”   
  
She lifted her head as Ardeth shifted on the couch, then whimpered when he turned on his side and opened his eyes. She was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, a book balanced on one knee and a cup of coffee on the other.   
“Move on your back,” she said, placing them both on the ground next to her. “Slowly,” she added, getting up and fixing her blouse as she walked up to him. Ardeth obeyed without a word, turning around as slowly as he could - still, his ribcage ached, and his left leg felt slightly numb. Lennan bent over him, her amulet hanging in front of his eyes as she placed her hand on his forehead then sighed and sat on the edge of the couch, right next to him. “The fever has gone, I didn’t know what else to do,” she brought her hands on her lap, and quickly scanned him before closing her eyes and breathing in. There were dark shadows around her eyes, and locks of her hair fell around her face in tangled messes, having escaped the braid at the back head. She looked exhausted.   
“How long was I out?” his tongue felt covered in a layer of sand, and he softly smacked his lips at the sensation. She grabbed a glass of water from the small table in the middle of the room, and moved closer to him. Her free hand went behind his head, and she helped him up while bringing the glass to his lips to help him. When she put it back on the table, he leaned back and sighed. “Thank you,” he murmured, blinking slowly before looking for her face again. Her hands hovered his shoulder.   
“The fever went up and down for three days, then you slept all through yesterday,” she said slowly. He registered the words a moment later, and tried to get up, but her palms pressed against his shoulders before he could jerk up. Still, the tension in his muscles made him whimper again, and she gently caressed his arm as the tremor ceased. “I did my best, but you’ll be sore for a while - I’m not a healer.”   
“I have to go, I’ve been away for too long,” he protested, and Lennan moved slightly back, hands on her lap again. She looked down, then up again.   
“They know you’re here,” she was fidgeting with the ring on her index finger. “Your people. They came the day after you arrived, and they come by everyday to make sure you’re not dead. I’m pretty sure someone is constantly outside the door,” she added, looking towards the entrance, then got up and rubbed her hands on her thighs.   
“How did you convince them to let me stay here?” he asked softly, following her movements as she recovered her cup and pulled up the book from the floor.   
“I didn’t,” she placed the book on the table and shrugged, turning towards him again. “You did. I don’t know what you told them, but they did not question you.”   
“I’m their Chief,” he did not say it with arrogance, but she snorted and rolled her eyes a little.   
“You were out of your mind with fever. You could’ve been Horus himself and you still would’ve been delirious. I don’t know why they let you stay,” she admitted at last, looking down at her cup. He wondered if there was still something in it or if she simply had to keep her hands and eyes occupied with something else. Did she, like he did, feel the need to reach out for him? To not avert her gaze from him, not even for a second, for fear he would disappear in the span of a blink?   
“Perhaps they deemed you trustworthy,” he offered, and she arched an eyebrow, looking at him again through her lashes.   
“I told you already, I’m not a healer,” she tapped against the mug, the ring making a soft sound against the rim.   
“Yet you healed me,” he placed his hands at his side, and tried to push himself up, unsuccessfully. She was at his side then, leaving the cup on the table and guiding his arms around her shoulders gently. Her hands were on his sides, and she slowly lifted him up in a seated position, reaching behind his back to rearrange the pillows. He wanted to point out how even in the middle of that discussion, she was still trying to help him, but knew better than to test his luck furthermore. “Why are you doing this?” he asked then softly, hands on her shoulders to prevent her from getting away completely. Her eyes were open wide.   
“You know why,” she almost whispered, sitting back down again, a little closer this time. “I - you felt it too, didn’t you? That’s why you came here,” he dropped his hands, one behind her back and the other one brushing against the back of hers.   
“I thought I was going back to my people,” he said.  _ I thought I was going back home _ , was what he meant. He looked at her then,  _ truly _ looked at her, and again he saw the golden halls, a large, warm room, the feeling of a fire nearby and sweetness on his tongue, her dark blouse turning into a white robe. By her eyes, he could tell she was seeing something similar. “ _ Nedjem _ ,” he whispered, and unable to stop himself reached up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.  _ It was your name _ , a kind voice said in her mind as she leaned into his touch,  _ you know it was. I told you this would happen _ .   
“She told me about you,” Lennan was breathless, a wide smile now on her lips as her heart raced. The memories flashed before her eyes, images of the past merging with the present, and she had to close her eyes - it had happened before, and she knew she would get a headache soon, but with happy tears in her eyes she couldn’t bring herself to care. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, holding onto him as the drumming in her chest slowed little by little. The Goddess laughed with pure joy in her mind, and she once again felt the pull towards Ardeth, pushing her to lean against him. His hand was now behind her head, fingers wrapped around her braid, holding her close. “You’re still sore,” she warned him.   
“I don’t care,” his reply was quick, firm, but she placed her hand at his side and pushed herself back, meeting his gaze. It was all it took: a glance. He let go of her, lingering a moment against her skin before laying back on the pillows. “I’m sorry, I don’t -” the words died on his lips.  _ What? _ he asked himself.  _ I can’t resist the urge to feel you? Now that I know what it feels like I’m not sure I can manage without? _ How ridiculous. They did not even know each other, technically speaking.   
“I know,” she gave him a little smile, then got up and went to the door. When she opened it, two of Ardeth’s Medjai warriors stumbled inside. 

They looked as if they couldn’t believe they had been discovered, glancing from the woman with her hands on her hips to Ardeth, who frowned in their direction - he had not heard them.   
“ _ Chief Bay, you’re awake, _ ” one of them said, walking towards the couch. “ _ Can we go now? _ ”   
“He’s not going anywhere yet,” Lennan crossed her arms, and the two warriors both turned in her direction, glaring at her. “I told you already, he needs time to heal, and he won’t be able to ride in the middle of the desert like that. Hell, he won’t make it to the stables as for now,” she was playing again with the ring on her finger, but her voice was unwavering.   
“Listen, you witch -” whatever he was going to say died on his lips as he met her gaze, her eyes shining of a bright, unnatural green. The air around her looked electric as she took two steps forward. They both reached for their sabres, but the weapons remained stuck in their place, and they took a step towards the window.   
“Careful,” her voice was hers and not her own at the same time, “you wouldn’t want to fall over,” she moved her hand in the air, a rotating movement of the wrist, and the blinds on the window sealed shut, leaving them almost in darkness. “Chief Bay decided to stay here, in my house, so you will follow my rules. Understood?” their eyes, open wide, moved from her to Ardeth, who sat with his arms crossed and a little grin on his lips. His warriors looked at him in shock, and then brought their attention back on Lennan, as if afraid she might do something against them.   
“They think you bewitched me,” Ardeth said, making her turn around. The blinds opened again, and her eyes went back to normal as soon as she met his gaze, an amused expression on his face.   
“I don’t bewitch people,” she sounded almost offended, which made Ardeth laugh. His warriors were looking at him with confusion painted on their faces. “I have better things to do, like preventing you from dying on my couch,” she scoffed, returning to her position on the floor where she was when he first woke up.   
“You called her -  _ what’s the word _ ?” one of them turned to the other, snapping his fingers.   
“I called her  _ my fate _ , I’m aware,” Ardeth said calmly. Lennan’s cheeks turned immediately rosy at his words - she thought he didn’t know. She thought that his words were conditioned by his fever, and that he would not remember once he woke up. “I was the one who came here after Hamunaptra, I looked for her. She offered me shelter and she healed me,” he straightened slightly, the movement a clear dab at his ribcage, but he didn’t show it if not for the clench of his fist at his side. “You will act and treat her accordingly. Now leave,” they nodded at his words, and glanced at each other before walking away in silence. After the door closed, Ardeth relaxed back, hissing through the movement.   
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly once he’d settled down. “Defend me that way, I mean. They’ve been at it for almost four days, and they just worry about you,” she reached for her braid, untying the knot at the end of it to let it loose. “You’re their leader and I’m a stranger with powers unknown to them, why shouldn’t they?”   
“I just survived a near Apocalypse,” Ardeth snorted, and Lennan’s stopped brushing her hair to look up at him, an eyebrow arched.   
“And you nearly died because of it,” he was ready to protest, but she held her hand up and got to her feet again, reaching his side. “Give me your hand,” she ordered, palm up. With a frown, Ardeth placed his hand on hers, and she turned it around so that its back was against her palm. With her free hand, she opened the neck of his tunic, revealing a blue-ish shadow across his ribs, darker on his left side. She guided his hand on his chest, keeping a light touch as he felt the bumps of his ribs with the tip of his fingers. At the fifth rib he flinched, and she took his hand back. “It’s still healing, but you got lucky. That could’ve pierced your lung,” there was worry in her eyes, and he took her hands back in his.   
“Thank you, Nedjem,” he murmured, and she averted her gaze quickly, a little hiccup cutting her breath short. “What now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! feedback would really be appreciated


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